


when the cat's away

by TheDragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Fuckbuddies, Getting Together, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27644735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragon/pseuds/TheDragon
Summary: "Arthur," Merlin says with a wide grin. Arthur barely has the time to blink before Merlin's lips crash into his, sending the both of them banging into the door and knocking the breath right out of him.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 262
Collections: Bottom Arthur Fest





	when the cat's away

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt:

Arthur's cat is an insufferable creature, really.

She's constantly scratching at the sides of the sofa rather than one of the many perfectly respectable cat trees, she _never_ appreciates the food he gives her, no matter that it's the best on the market, and perhaps worst of all she really, _really_ hates everyone who dares to enter the flat.

Except Merlin. For some reason, unbeknownst to anyone but her, Lady has taken a shine to him. Every time he comes over, she runs right at him and winds herself between his legs, leaving the cuffs of his jeans smothered in long, white strands of fur. And Merlin, bless his whole, entire soul, seems to be just as in love with her as she is with him.

It's... well, Arthur doesn't want to call it _adorable_ , but there's no other word for it, really. Whenever Merlin comes over—usually once a week, though it depends on how stressful said week has been for the both of them—he always greets Lady first before turning to Arthur, talking to her softly, telling her how wonderful she looks, what a nice cat she is. He _showers_ her with so many compliments that it’s almost enough to make Arthur jealous.

It's no different today. Merlin's barely through the door before Lady is meowing up at him, demanding he pet her. He barely spares a smile for Arthur before doing her bidding.

"Hey there, princess," Merlin says, kneeling in front of her, giving her all the chin scritches she could desire. Arthur closes and locks the door behind him, then turns around and watches the two of them together. It's strange, seeing his cat so friendly with someone other than him, but the sight never fails to warm Arthur's heart. He hopes to whatever deity will listen that Merlin doesn’t see the heart eyes he’s making.

Merlin only stands up to properly greet Arthur once Lady has wandered away, pleased with the affection she received. Raising an eyebrow, Arthur pretends to be affronted that he hasn't been afforded a greeting of his own.

"Arthur," Merlin says with a wide grin. Arthur barely has the time to blink before Merlin's lips crash into his, sending the both of them banging into the door and knocking the breath right out of him. One of Merlin's hands slips beneath his shirt and plants itself on his waist, fingers dipping below the waistband of Arthur's trousers and caressing the skin there. The other, he uses to get a firm grip on Arthur's hair. When he pulls on it, tugging Arthur's head back, Arthur gasps. Merlin takes the opportunity to push his tongue in Arthur's mouth, deepening their kiss.

Arthur gives in, letting all of his muscles go lax.

When they finally separate, completely out of breath, Arthur slumps against the door, his mouth red and eyes glassy. He barely even notices Merlin toeing his shoes off and kicking them to the side, too absorbed in how the touch of Merlin’s skin feels against his own.

"Bedroom?" Merlin asks, kissing along the side of Arthur's neck, leaving patches of beard burn wherever he goes. It's going to look like hell come morning—it always does—but not once has Arthur regretted it. He always covers it up when he needs to go out, but when he’s alone, Arthur likes to trail his fingers over the redness adorning his skin, to remember exactly how it felt to have Merlin pressed up against him.

"Y— yeah," Arthur says, trying to get his thoughts in order. Merlin takes Arthur’s hand in one of his and leads him in the direction of the bedroom. Arthur's trousers are so tight around his cock that each step forward has him hissing, much to Merlin's amusement.

"Maybe we should have undressed you in the hall," Merlin says, his voice no more than a husky whisper. "Led you naked right past the windows so that everyone could see how worked up you are after a single kiss."

Arthur can't stop the whimper that escapes his mouth. He quickens his pace, so that Merlin is the one trailing along after _him_. The bedroom door crashes against the wall as it slams open. It’s going to leave a mark, but Arthur can't bring himself to care, not with Merlin whispering dirty nothings into his ear, telling him how he's going to take him apart piece by piece, how he's going to tie him down and make Arthur take everything he has to give.

It's a wonder Arthur hasn't come in his pants yet. God, Merlin would never let him live that down.

He pulls Merlin into the room, giving him a little push towards the bed, pleased to see that his shirt is already halfway undone and his belt unbuckled. He’s well on his way to being naked; definitely doing better than Arthur in that regard.

Lady tries to follow them inside.

"No," Arthur says, raising one finger in warning. Keeping a close eye on her to make sure she doesn’t try to slip in, he closes and locks the door behind him, steadfastly ignoring her annoyed meows. She's had her time with Merlin tonight; it's Arthur's turn now.

"I think she might be jealous," Merlin says, coming up behind Arthur and wrapping his arms around him, pressing his hard cock into Arthur's arse. His fingers unbuckle Arthur's own belt, carefully pulling it out of the loops before moving on to the button and zip of his jeans.

"Why are you still talking?" Arthur groans, struggling to get free of his shirt. He comes _this_ close to just tearing it to shreds—it’s not like he can’t get a new one—but Merlin grabs the hem and helps to ease it over Arthur’s head.

If he’s surprised to find Arthur isn't wearing anything underneath his trousers, Merlin doesn't show it. Merlin wraps his hand around Arthur's cock and begins stroking it, swiping his thumb over the slit every so often, spreading out the wetness that’s begun leaking from the tip. It feels so good, having Merlin's hands on him; _better_ than good. It’s… it’s _indescribable_. They've already done this dozens of times, but Arthur doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of it, not when Merlin is the only person he's found who's this attuned to all of his wants and needs.

He's always enjoyed sex—in particular, sex with men—but with Merlin, it's a whole other experience. Merlin touches him so proprietarily, doesn't mind pushing Arthur around, roughing him up a bit. Whenever they spend the night together, Arthur goes through the next day feeling like he's walking on air.

He reaches back and puts one of his hands on Merlin's arse, wanting him closer despite the fact he's already pressed into the line of Arthur's back, cock hot and heavy between his arse cheeks. He's rewarded by Merlin speeding up his strokes and moving his free hand up from where it rests on Arthur's belly, up and up until he reaches a nipple.

And then he twists _hard_ , and Arthur almost crashes down to his knees with a gasp.

"Let's move this over to the bed, yeah?" Merlin says into his ear, tightening his grip on Arthur's cock. Arthur feels bereft when Merlin lets go and steps away, already missing the touch of his skin.

He's barely afforded the time to lie down on the bed before Merlin _pounces_ on him, situating himself in between Arthur's legs and pressing him down into the mattress.

"What do you want today?" Merlin asks, trailing one finger down between Arthur's pecs, past his belly button and down to the base of his leaking cock. "Handjob? Blowjob? Do you want me to eat you out, maybe?"

"I want you inside me," Arthur says, pressing his thighs tight against Merlin's waist, keeping him trapped in between them.

"Yeah?" Merlin grins at him crookedly. "You want me to tie you down?"

They haven't done that in a while, and Arthur _aches_ for it.

"The cuffs are in the nightstand," he says. Merlin slaps the outside of one of his thighs, asking to be released, but Arthur is loath to do so. Merlin lands another smack, this time on the inner thigh, and Arthur's legs fall open automatically.

"Good boy," Merlin purrs, getting up again. Arthur watches as he rummages around in the drawer, coming up with a pair of handcuffs and a long, dark length of fabric. "Blindfold?"

Arthur nods, mouth already watering. He raises his head obediently as Merlin ties it on, taking special care not to get any of Arthur's hair caught inside the knot. It warms his heart, being taken care of like this. When the first cuff wraps itself around his wrist, Arthur closes his eyes with a sigh.

He's effectively immobilised by the time Merlin settles back in between his legs. The tube of lube clicks open, and barely a second later, Merlin's hands are on his arse and he’s pushing one of his long and unfairly nimble fingers inside Arthur's hole. Arthur can't help the whimper that tears itself from his throat when Merlin leans over him to mouth at one of his nipples.

"Keep. Keep doing that," Arthur says. Instinctively, he tries to bring one of his hands down to grab the back of Merlin's head, but the cuffs stop him, forcing him to lie before Merlin, completely exposed and unable to do anything to help himself along. Arthur's cock twitches against his belly, the head of it leaking a steady stream of precome that pools on his skin.

Merlin chuckles, then takes his mouth away, but not without giving Arthur's nipple one last, painful nip. Arthur is still lamenting the loss when Merlin slips another finger inside his arse, quickly followed by a third, stretching his hole wide. He licks one long stripe up the length of Arthur's cock, before taking the head of it into his mouth and sucking _hard_.

Arthur's feet come up off the bed, his thighs clamping around Merlin's head. Merlin lands a smack to his arse, prompting Arthur to release him.

"Are we going to have to tie your legs down as well?" Merlin asks with a laugh, but before Arthur gets the chance to say anything in reply, they hear a loud meowing coming from behind the door, shortly followed by a clang as Lady throws herself on top of the door handle. She's too smart for her own good sometimes; thankfully, Arthur has long since learned to lock the bedroom door whenever he's... otherwise engaged.

Merlin laughs again when Arthur groans.

"I swear she loves you more than she does me," Arthur says, pushing back on Merlin's fingers to get him to start moving again.

"She doesn't do this with anyone else, then?" Merlin thrusts his fingers inside up to the knuckles, grazing Arthur's prostate and startling another moan out of him. He does it again, and again, and _again_ , twisting and prodding and stroking, and Arthur's mind goes so fuzzy he almost forgets the question.

"God, no. She's— she’s usually intolerable around people." Arthur grabs at the chain connecting the two cuffs, desperately searching for a way to ground himself, especially now that Merlin's fondling his balls in his other hand, softly rolling them between his fingers. Arthur's cock weeps at the lack of attention.

"That doesn't sound right." Merlin hums, his warm breath ghosting over Arthur's cock and making him shiver. "She's such a wonderful cat."

"Mmm. Sometimes," Arthur assents. Coincidentally, all of those times are when Merlin comes over. "Can you please stop talking about my cat while you have your fingers shoved up my arse?"

Merlin sighs in an awfully long-suffering manner. They both ignore the next time Lady jumps on the door handle, adamant on getting inside the room. Arthur can hear her patter away with one last aggrieved meow.

The second she’s gone, Merlin's mouth is back on his cock, swallowing it down whole, rubbing Arthur's prostate with his fingers. The pleasure creeps up on him, getting stronger and stronger with each passing second. Merlin hums around his cock, and that's it, Arthur is almost gone, and then—

And then, Merlin moves away, taking his mouth and his fingers with him.

"All right," he says, before Arthur can voice one of his many protests. "Turn over."

It takes a bit of manoeuvring and grumbling, but Arthur does as he's told. The moment he’s settled, Merlin is back between his thighs, his hands spreading aparts Arthur's arse. Arthur can _feel_ the flush rise to his skin as Merlin stays just like that, thumbing at Arthur’s hole.

"On your knees," Merlin orders, tapping on Arthur's thigh.

Before he met Merlin, he never thought he could get off on someone ordering him around in bed. Now, Arthur doesn't even bother to entertain the idea of going back. Sure, vanilla sex is nice, but he likes it _so much better_ when all he has to do is as he's told, knowing that is enough to please his partner.

Arthur moves towards the headboard and pushes himself up so that he's on his knees and forearms in the middle of the bed. The chain between his cuffs has enough slack in it that he's not uncomfortable at all, and the blindfold is still securely tied around his head, barely letting in any light.

The bed dips behind him, and then Merlin's pressing inside, his thick cock spreading Arthur wide open, making him groan into the bedspread. Merlin barely gives him a second to get used to the sensation before he's pulling out, only to roughly thrust back inside. Arthur pushes back eagerly, angling his hips so that Merlin's cock rubs up against his prostate with each thrust.

He’s aching to get some friction on his cock. Arthur tugs on the cuffs again, wanting to see exactly how far down he can reach with them still on.

It's not much. He can barely get his hand down past his chin.

"Merlin," Arthur moans, his cock twitching eagerly. There must be a pool of precome underneath him by now, and he momentarily curses himself for not having thought to put a sheet protector atop the bed.

"Do you want something?" Merlin asks, leaning over him, pressing Arthur's chest down onto the bed with a hand between his shoulder blades. Arthur goes, unable to resist anything Merlin might ask of him, and buries his face in a pillow to stifle the sounds he's making. "If you want something, you're going to have to ask for it."

And fuck if that doesn't make his cock even harder, but there's no friction to be found, nothing to rut against.

"Touch me," he says, turning his face in the direction Merlin's voice came from, but Merlin only hums noncommittally.

"I _am_ touching you," he says, shoving at Arthur's back again, smacking his arse with his other hand. It's going to leave a bright red handprint, just like the others. Arthur wonders if he'll have time to admire it before it fades. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"My— my cock," Arthur groans, Merlin's unforgiving thrusts punching the breath right out of him. "Touch my cock. _Please_."

It must be the 'please' that does it for him—it's _always_ the 'please' that does it for him. Arthur so rarely says the word, and Merlin _knows_ that, so hearing him say it in bed, _begging_ for Merlin to touch him...

Well, the gist of it is, Arthur has long since learned tacking a 'please' onto the end of his sentence can have Merlin eating out of the palm of his hand.

Maybe he should try to be more polite in the real world, see where that gets him.

And yet some part of him recoils at the idea, as if the usage of the word should be restricted to Merlin, and Merlin alone. Arthur's pleading, his begging—all of that is meant for Merlin's ears only.

As he knew it would, Merlin's hand wraps around Arthur's cock again, its grip so proprietary, so _possessive_ , that it makes Arthur shiver again. Merlin doesn't start stroking, not yet, but Arthur can be patient when he has to. Besides, just having Merlin's hand on him is doing wonders for his growing arousal.

Arthur startles when Merlin's lips press against his, the gentle, tender kiss a stark contrast to everything else. Arthur kisses back with fervour, opening his mouth when Merlin's tongue glides over the seam of his lips. It's uncomfortable and his neck aches from the angle, but he wouldn't change it for the world, not when it feels this good.

The only thing that would make this any better would be seeing Merlin, though at the same time, he relishes how the blindfold makes him focus more on Merlin's touch and the pleasured sounds he's making rather than on anything else.

Merlin's breath catches, his hips stutter forward a few more times, and then he's coming, hot and wet inside Arthur. Arthur continues kissing him, his lips moving softly against Merlin's still mouth, giving him the opportunity to catch his breath. He barely even notices Merlin's hand slipping off his length, though he _definitely_ notices when Merlin's cock withdraws from his body, leaving behind an almost intolerable emptiness. Arthur clenches down around nothing, mourning the loss.

Merlin doesn't bother getting off of him when he starts stroking Arthur's cock again, moving so that his forehead is pressed against the nape of Arthur's neck, the hand that was between Arthur's shoulder blades now wrapped tightly around his chest. Arthur thrusts forward into his hand, seeking friction where he can get it. He's been on the edge for so long— _Merlin's_ had him on the edge for so long—and he can't wait anymore, thrusting with abandon, chasing his own pleasure now that Merlin has had his.

When he comes, Arthur sees stars.

He's unaware after that, feeling like he's soaring somewhere high above the clouds, where no one can touch him, nothing can hurt him. It’s _exhilarating_ , this rush.

When he comes to, it's to the realisation that Merlin has uncuffed him and removed his blindfold, and they're both lying on their sides with Merlin pressed up behind him, holding him close.

"Arthur?" Merlin asks when Arthur moves, bringing his arms closer to his chest. The insides of his thighs are sticky with Merlin's come, and it should be disgusting, but Arthur relishes the sensation.

He hums in question when Merlin says his name again.

"How are you feeling?" One of Merlin's hands wraps around his wrists, right over the red mark left behind by the cuffs. Arthur fervently hopes that his hips have handprints to match.

"Like I'm flying," Arthur says, pushing back further into Merlin, making himself comfortable in his arms. He's rewarded with a soft chuckle and a kiss to his temple.

"That's good. Do you need anything? Some water? A blanket?"

Arthur is shaking his head before Merlin has even finished speaking.

"Stay," he says, because that's the only thing he wants from Merlin right now—to stay in this little cocoon of safety and comfort and warmth. To catch their breaths, maybe lie here just like this for another hour, or however long it takes for Arthur to feel ready to get up and face the world again.

He doesn't know how long they stay in bed, in the end, but the next time Arthur opens his eyes, it's dark. The blinds have been closed, the duvet tucked over him, and Merlin is lying beside him, running his fingers through Arthur's hair.

"Awake?" he asks when Arthur looks up at him, bleary eyed from sleep.

"Yeah." Arthur rolls over onto his back and stretches out his arms. His body is pleasantly sore in all the right places, and hopefully, it will stay just like this throughout the weekend. "I need a shower. Join me?"

"Not this time," Merlin says with a soft smile, sending all the butterflies in Arthur's belly aflutter. "Maybe next week."

Arthur sighs when Merlin sits up and gets off the bed, but follows soon after. He doesn't bother putting on anything besides the bathrobe he left haphazardly thrown over the chair, and watches appreciatively as Merlin bends over to pick up the clothes he left scattered about the floor.

Maybe Merlin will let Arthur fuck him next time, if he asks nicely. That's a thought.

Once Merlin is dressed, Arthur walks over to the door and unlocks it. Lady is nowhere in sight, but he fully expects her to come running at them any second now.

And that is exactly what she does, twirling and twining her way between Merlin's legs to the point where he trips over her; Arthur has to catch him to keep him from falling flat on his face and breaking his nose.

"Thanks," Merlin says, kneeling down to scratch under Lady's chin. "Sorry, princess. I need to get my shoes on and get going. I'll bring you a treat next time. Promise."

Lady meows when Merlin stands back up, trailing behind him pitifully as he heads over to where he left his shoes. She never looks at Arthur that way, but then, there _is_ something special about Merlin.

When Merlin sits down on the floor to put on his shoes, Arthur sits down next to him and kisses him, unwilling to let him go just like that. Merlin presses back against him eagerly, shoes and their laces all but forgotten. He puts his hands on the sides of Arthur's face, holding him so gently that Arthur wonders if Merlin thinks he's going to break.

Before they get the chance to do anything else, Lady squeezes herself in between them and plops down on Merlin's lap, looking up imploringly until Merlin gives in and starts petting her with one hand, struggling to put on his shoes with the other. Arthur would help him, but...

There's something so endearing about the image they make. Seeing Merlin like this, all smiles and bubbly laughter and sweet words, is such a stark contrast to the way he is in bed. It leaves Arthur aching to get to know him better, to spend time with Merlin outside of bed rather than in it.

Lady doesn't move off Merlin's lap when he attempts to get up, seemingly convinced that if she keeps sitting there, he won't dare to move.

If only.

She meows when Merlin carefully picks her up and moves her to the side, looking for all the world as though she's been kicked. She meows again when he gets up, walking the remaining two paces to the door. She doesn't _stop_ meowing when it becomes clear he's leaving—if anything, she starts doing it more loudly.

Arthur has half a mind to apologise for her behaviour, but then Merlin's bending down again, giving her one last pet on the head and whispering, "What, you want to come with me? I don't think your owner would like that much." He glances up at Arthur, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Arthur snorts. "Have you seen the way she’s been acting? She'd _love_ to go with you.” He would too, if Merlin asked.

"Well, I do have a way with animals." Merlin smiles up at him, then sighs. "I really do have to get going now," he says, looking regretfully first at Arthur, then Lady. "I guess I'll be seeing you next week?"

Arthur nods stiffly, watching as Merlin turns around and unlocks the door. It's only when Merlin presses down on the handle that Arthur blurts out the words he's been wanting to say since this evening first began.

"Go out with me," he says before Merlin can flee into the night. "On a date. A proper one. To a café, or a restaurant, or…"

Merlin turns around to face him, eyeing him curiously. Arthur stands stock still as Merlin's eyes flit all over his face, before he—thank _god_ —grins.

"Tomorrow night work for you?" Merlin asks, worrying at the bottom of his shirt with his fingers.

"Tomorrow would be perfect." Just enough time for some of the aches and handprints to fade so that Merlin can replace them with new ones, assuming their date goes well and ends in something a bit more steamy. "Six o'clock?"

"Perfect," Merlin says. He's still looking at Arthur, still searching for something, but he must find whatever it is he's looking for because Merlin darts in for a quick peck on the lips and then he's gone, Lady meowing for him to come back.

"He'll come round tomorrow," Arthur tells her, picking her up. "He can spoil you rotten then. You won’t even have time to miss him."

And neither will Arthur.


End file.
